Let me see him in your eyes
by saffron moreau
Summary: It s the day after Alanna killed Roger in the throne room. Alex is in a murderous mood, until Delia pays him a visit.


_Title: Let me see him in your eyes_

_Summary: It´s the day after Alanna killed Roger in the throne room. Alex is in a murderous mood, until Delia pays him a visit._

_Rating: PG-13_

_Author's Notes: My first completed piece of fanfic. I was always searching the books meticulously for every mention of Alex, and since there was none of his reaction to Roger´s death I decided to fill in the blank spaces, so to say._

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_

It was the day after the world had ended, and the court was celebrating.

Alex of Tirragen wanted to maim them all. Their cheering and toasts to Sir Alanna and shameless gloating about Roger´s fall felt like the ultimate mockery to him. They were celebrating nothing less than the death of one of their best – no, one that was far superior to them all.

It was still incomprehensible to him. If only Roger had listened to him, just this once, he would still be alive.

"Let me!" he had urged him while helping the Duke of Conté put on his armour. "You are no knight, Roger – you can name a champion!"

But Roger had only smirked. "I am sorry to rob you of the pleasure I know you desire so much, my dear – but this is a thing between me and Trebond. I cannot let the court think I am afraid of a boy who was a mere squire only yesterday."

Alex´s fingers were shaking ever-so-slightly as he tied a knot on Roger´s wristguard. He considered, for a moment, messing the knot up to win some more time to convince Roger; but Roger would not be convinced by anything, he could see that. The Duke smiled. He leaned forward and whispered "Don´t worry about me. I am a sorcerer, have you forgotten?"

Alex kept his eyes on the wristguard, not daring to look up into those blue eyes that were so close to his face. "Indeed", was all he said.

Roger chuckled, placing a hand on his former squire´s shoulder. "Trebond will be history in less than an hour. I promise. When have I ever let you down?"

Countless times.

With a forced smile Alex stepped back and gave the Duke a nod. "Until later then."

Now was later, and Roger had tripped over one of his broken promises and broken his precious neck in addition, and Alex, who had seen it coming but been unable to prevent it, wanted to see someone pay for it.

He was back in his rooms after a fruitless attempt of finding Alan – Alanna, with the best intentions of finishing off what Roger had started. He did not care that he would be convicted as a traitor in return; if only the redhaired little devil died, as she should have done yesterday in the throne room. Alex had no doubt that he would beat her. He could have – should have – killed her years ago, when she was crouching before him on the ground with a broken collarbone, whimpering.

But they told him that she had left the castle, left Corus even. Other than Gary and Raoul, he had not been invited to see her off – a wise move of her. If nothing else, then at least she had a clear sense of who her enemies were.

He was pacing up and down, restless. His imagination was running wild with scenarios of finding Alanna, digging his hand deep into her red hair and shaking her violently before using his sword to finish her off. Rage was eating him up from inside, a roaring fire that would devour her within seconds if he could only get a hold of her. But no, that would not do. It would be much more satisfying to draw it out, let her tire herself out, see the fear in those violet eyes when she realized that she could not escape her fate...

"Alex?"

He spun round, and upon seeing the fury on his face Delia of Eldorne gave a little squeal and almost stumbled back on the doorstep.

"What do you want?!"

Alex and Delia had never been particularly fond of each other. They tolerated the other´s presence only for Roger´s sake. The smiles Delia gave Alex were sickeningly sweet in front of Roger and venomous behind his back; Alex responded to all of them with nonchalance and a hint of contempt whenever he talked to her.

Now, though, there was no smile on Delia´s face, sweet or otherwise; her cheeks were tear-stained and her famous green eyes swimming. Her lips stood out shock red in her pale face, as if she had been biting them incessantly, and her slender hands were kneading the fabric of her blue-green dress. It was the same she had been wearing yesterday, and it had stains up front that looked suspiciously like blood. Before Alex´s eyes flashed the picture of Delia kneeling at Roger´s side, wailing and throwing herself over the dead Duke´s body. He felt sickness grabbing at him and looked away from her and that hideous dress.

Even in a state of complete disarray, Delia of Eldorne was beautiful, or maybe she was even more beautiful due to the dramatic aura of mourning engulfing her. She took a step towards Alex, and out of pure habit he took a step back. She stopped, helplessly wringing her hands, looking at him pleadingly.

"Please, Alex… please."

A frown crossed his face. Delia was pride personified. She did not beg. She did not cry either, not even for manipulation. Other court ladies might act demure and fragile to charm men, flatter them by playing the weak part to their manliness. That had never been Delia´s manner. She always made it very clear that she was superior to them all, and that they should be grateful if she granted them so much as a shred of her precious attention. And they did; they swarmed round her like butterflies around a lilac bush.

Not Alex though. Still, he wasn´t sure that he preferred this distressed, dishevelled version of Delia to the old one. If there was anything Alex abhorred, then it was lack of self-control. And Delia was certainly displaying a most shocking lack of self-control at the moment.

A couple of steps brought him next to her. He shut the still open door behind Delia rather more forcefully than strictly necessary, and turned to face her.

"_What_ do you want?"

She shook her head, strands of shiny dark brown hair falling into her face, fresh tears pooling up in her eyes that were threatening to overflow and mess up her makeup even more. The immaculate, stunning appearance that Lady Delia usually was held no allure for Alex; in fact, he found her slightly annoying, her and those endless silly games she played with the lovesick noblemen, when everybody should have known that Delia´s stone cold heart belonged to one man only. But this Delia, with the stained dress and the flowing makeup, was like another person altogether, and Alex was surprised to find that he actually felt something like pity for her.

"He´s gone, Alex", Delia whispered. Still the tears weren´t falling. She just stood there looking at him, her fingers buried in the stained silk of her dress, so pale that she looked like she would faint any minute.

Her words hit him squarely in the chest, which was strange really, since they were hardly news. Alex knew that Roger was gone - dead, not gone; he had never been one for euphemisms - but in regular intervals this knowledge came back with full force, stabbing him, taking his breath away.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm down, and when he opened them again Delia´s face was only inches away from his own. Instinctively, he pushed her back. She stumbled a little, but took hold of his sleeve to steady herself, and sighed, as if he had failed to understand a simple fact.

"Alex, please… you´re all I have left now. Nobody loved him like we did. Don´t you understand? I just… want to see him in your eyes. And I can do the same for you."

Alex felt a mad urge to laugh rise up inside him. He suppressed it, allowing only a smirk to play around his lips as he looked down on Delia coldly. She was tall for a woman and almost, but not quite, on eye level with him.

"I don´t want to see anything in your eyes, Delia", he said cruelly, emphasising every word, pronouncing her name as if it were a swear word. "Least of all him. If you think he´s there, go find a mirror."

Now, finally, the tears were falling. Delia did not try to stop them, in fact she did not even seem to notice that they were streaming down her face, drilling thin canals of salt into her porcelain cheeks. Slowly she shook her head, her eyes never leaving Alex´s face. "Why you?" she said, sincere astonishment in her voice. "What did he see in you? I would have done anything for him, and yet…"

He raised one eyebrow. "Are you still trying to better me, Delia? Isn´t it rather pointless now? Come on, dearest, do cheer up. You´ll soon be over it, and then you can go back to play with the boys."

Her blow, directed at his cheek, came before he had finished speaking, but nonetheless Alex caught her wrist with ease. Delia did not offer any resistance. Instead she gave a choked sound and bent over as if in severe pain, sinking to her knees, and Alex, who was reluctant to release her hand, suddenly found himself crouching down on the floor, with Delia´s face buried against his chest, wild, uncontrolled sobs shaking her whole body. Tentatively, he laid his free hand on her back, and after a while released her wrist and put his other arm around her as well. After a while, the sobs died down, and after a long, shaky intake of breath Delia was quiet. Alex heaved her up, and since she did not stop clinging to him he just left his arms where they were, his hands stroking her shoulders almost unconsciously in a soothing gesture. Delia´s head lay heavy on his shoulder; her face was turned away, and so he did not understand what she said when she muttered something.

"What…?"

She lifted her head to look at him. Tears were still clinging to her eyelashes. The smile she gave him made him wonder, for the first time, if she was drugged. But her eyes looked normal, only a little puffed and red.

"Alex… I am not prepared to let him go yet. Let me be close to him just one more time. Have you never wondered… what he felt when he was with me? We had something, you know. Something special."

He flinched, but Delia put her fingers on his lips before he could speak up.

"As he had with you. We could put this together, this bond each of us had with him. Let each other see what we had. Let him be with us one last time."

Her fingers had left his mouth and were caressing his cheek now, tracing his cheekbone, the exact same spot that only minutes ago she had almost dug her nails into. Against his will, Alex felt his breath shorten. He could feel Delia´s other hand creep up his shoulders, his neck, her fingers gently twirling his hair, her lips almost - almost - brushing his chin. In spite of himself, he started to consider her words; started to wonder what it would be like to undress her, take her to bed, make love to her like Roger had done. It would mean to see her through Roger´s eyes, to experience something Roger had experienced, and thus, to be near to him, in a twisted, not fully comprehensible way. Alex closed his eyes as Delia´s hand worked its way down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt in the process, while her other was still resting lightly on the nape of his neck. When he finally kissed her, she tasted of salt and sweet wine.


End file.
